Hastily arranged substitute gig as I had to cancel my coming weekend gig in Birmingham due to an overseas business trip. First time at the Lowry and have to say it is a splendid venue. The night started with a support slot from The Rails which was positively wonderful. Their first album was good but patchy but live they are a different proposition. Harmony vocals were excellent despite Kami apparently under the weather. They later joined Richard for the opening number of his set and James Walbourne is an astonishingly good guitar player and very much the pretender to Richards throne. Would love to see them do a full set together- hopefully something for the future. On to Richard’s set and was surprised that bass duties were performed by Davey Farragher and not Taras Prodaniuk. Now he really is an Imposter although he fitted in very well. Crowd were subdued until 1952VBL which as usual got the loudest cheer of the night. Personal favourite was Never give it up with its sinewy bass/drum intro and Salford Sunday. We also got a rare Meet on the Ledge and For the shame of doing wrong. Michael » Continue Reading.

This was like falling asleep and waking up inside her wonderful 2015 album “On Your Own Love Again”. With a broad sweep of red velvet curtain as a backdrop, there was a Lynchian dreamlike quality to the set-up which suited Jessica’s uniquely mannered vocal and guitar-picking style to a tee.

Entrancing is perhaps the word most often used to describe her music. Indeed, the spell woven by her songs in this live framework proved even more hypnotic than the studio recording. Opening the evening with the haunting “Wrong Hand”, Miss Pratt never hurried her performance. The softly swirling “Moon Dude” had an even slower lilt than on the album.

“Strange Melody”, “Back, Baby” [which included an impromptu audience rendition of the opening line, “Sometimes I pray for the rain”] and “I’ve Got a Feeling” combined to bring the regular set to a marginally more uptempo close before “Titles Under Pressure”, from her debut album, and a new number [I think], “Fortuna”, formed an understated encore.

Jessica was charmingly tangible throughout, asking the desk if they could fix her reverb glitch and telling her audience she felt a little ill, offering her » Continue Reading.

The big one: King Crimson plus heavy friends in a sold-out Dome. Light-prog fans were at the conference centre grooving to the Australian Dave (excuse me, David) Gilmour Show hearing and watching what sounded like the same heritage Floyd show. Fripp had collated 3 drummers (one doubling on keyboards), Tony Levin, Mel Collins, and Jakko Jakszyk, and while there were plenty of old tracks (three from “The Court of the Crimson King”, “Larks Tongues in Aspic”, “Easy Money”, “Red”, etc.), some these had not been played sometimes for 40-plus years. Minimal lighting, minimal amplification (but astonishing sound), and advice to sit back and just go with the music meant this felt a more adult event, and not just a re-living of smoke-filled afternoons in late-adolescent bedrooms. Intense, complicated music the way King Crimson fans like it flowed over the crowd, somewhere between heavy metal, chamber music, and psychedelic -progressive music. Two hours passed in minutes though Fripp had minimal engagement with the audience.

The audience:

What do you think? Men of a certain age, blokes who looked like my accountant, many fathers and sons (saving long-suffering wives from a night of pain), and Tommy » Continue Reading.

I could feel the bass notes pulsing through my plastic glass. There is something ‘A T-Rex is approaching and it’s making my drink ripple’ about Mark Lanegan’s voice on record – live it’s even more Jurassic Park. His tone is often referred to as ‘gravelly’ but that doesn’t begin to do it justice. You feel it in your eyeballs, in your belly, and in the toes of your boots; it’s an elemental noise. At 6’5” tall, with the hair of Jon Bon Jovi (non-poodle era) and the face of Tom Waits’ better-looking brother, he’s an imposing sight, although skinnier than I expected. And he doesn’t fuck about. On stage, straight into the The Gravedigger’s Song (first line, “With pirhana teeth, I’ve been dreaming of you…”) and we were off. There’s little between-song chat, just a man on a mission, like a preacher sermonising at the gates of Hell, launching haunting song after song, intensity levels set to 11 and rising. It was a perfectly-paced set, placing the brooding brilliance of Hit The City and One Way Street early on, with his excellent band notching up the guitars and synths and beats mid-set (Riot » Continue Reading.

What an amazing night. Ryley and band mixed with the audience beforehand and were keen to continue afterwards. What a friendly guy he is. Support was Weather Station, a Canadian lady (playing solo guitar) who’d flown in that morning. She has the voice of an angel, with a touch of Joni Mitchell and Jerry Burns. Interesting songs without choruses. She played one song with Ryley’s band, which was especially superb. Must investigate further. Ryley and band played a new song to start with; like many of the set it was instrumental for the first few minutes as the band established a folky modal groove (what? – Ed.) before the song proper. Nice. Primrose Green was immense, teased out to about 15 extraordinary minutes. Pete Paphides was raving about it on Twitter afterwards. Hot. Ryley played a cover or two; If I Were A Carpenter, Cocaine, a Van song as the encore, I forget the title. But the band, upright bass, studious guitarist, keyboard player with goatee who played with his eyes closed, nervous looking drummer and Ryley himself took the music to another level. They were brilliant; I couldn’t stop smiling. » Continue Reading.

I don’t think I have ever missed a London gig by L.A’s Dawes – I’m even going to their support slot for My Morning Jacket in a couple of weeks – but this was my first time at this venue. Stunning. Great bar and restaurant downstairs, decent sized room upstairs, with fantastic sound. I met @nogbad, who is wonderful company, for a pre-gig beer before we made our way upstairs.

With a new album out, the setlist was obviously skewed towards All Your Favourite Bands – no bad thing, as I think it is their best yet. I Can’t Think About That Now, Right On Time then If I Wanted Someone (from Nothing Is Wrong) and we were off to the races. The sound of the band is fuller than before, with the addition of touring guitarist Duane Betts (son of Dickey, so almost rock royalty.) This has freed Taylor Goldsmith up, so that he doesn’t feel like he’s almost carrying the sound, and he looks more relaxed for it. The older songs still sound fresh. They even went back as far as That Western Skyline from the first » Continue Reading.

Anyone who knows the Folds canon would have been hoping for a cocksure volley of nerd/genius chamber pop but fearing a piano concerto. Their hopes were fulfilled, their fears tempered by a pair of mesmering tours de force from the six-piece [string trio, wind trio] ensemble yMusic, who as well as opening each half also backed the main man.

Of course he’s a slightly arrogant shit. We know, he knows. But he’s also a four-eyed, mop-headed short-arse crammed to bursting with a talent for classy tunes and sassy tales, plus an impressive array of skills on the keys. If you’ve listened to his records and found that the plink-plonk grows wearisome after a few songs, you should know that the live setting is the proper way to consume his stuff. His voice, which can sound a little flat [in the dull sense, not the “off” sense] on the studio material, is really quite wonderful in the, er… flesh. And the addition of viola, cello, French horn, sax, flute etc brings a further dimension.

Folds used this night to show off a rack of new ditties in a promising trailer for his » Continue Reading.

I’m no fan of Van, in fact I don’t own any of his albums (bar a dreadful cheap collection of demos that my sister bought in a charity shop for me). I didn’t even know he plays the saxophone until he stepped onto the stage and started blowing into one. I wouldn’t say that I’ve now been converted, but thanks to some heavenly intervention a few songs into this festival gig it turned into one of the most memorable and entertaining gigs I’ve ever attended, and this without Van doing his Colin H-impersonation! It didn’t start very promising, some pretty bland jazzy numbers had the audience clapping politely, before things got a little better when he trotted out some hits. Still, the right mood wasn’t there. Not on stage, not in front of it. But then: “Hey where did we go, days when the rains came…” sang Mr Morrison, and in that exact moment the skies opened and showered us with gigantic cold, cold raindrops. After Saturday’s hot, cloud-free sunfest and a mostly sunny (but not so cloud-free) Sunday afternoon, suddenly it was pouring down like a waterfall. And this changed the mood » Continue Reading.

Micachu & The Shapes are an interesting proposition. They’re about to release their 3rd studio LP but Mica Levi herself also has a parallel career which includes some delightfully weird solo work and also a Bafta nominated film soundtrack. The forthcoming LP ‘ Good Sad Happy Bad’ is also getting some radio play – so I suspect a combination of these different interests has brought loads of people out on a rainy, humid Tuesday evening to hear the three-piece combo play some quite off-kilter art rock. On stage The Shapes are just Mica on guitar and vocals, keyboard player Raisa Khan playing oddly dischordant but instantly catchy riffs (occasionally with her fists) and tireless drummer Marc Pell who switches deftly between hypnotic Krautrock, Glitterbeat and Rockabilly and occasional tempo-shifts as the music dictates. They make an extraordindary noise for a 3 piece, and Mica can whip up quite a growl. It’s hard to describe what they sound like – at times I’m reminded of the tub-thumping Fall circa ‘Totally Wired’, Mica has knack for the breathless guitar riffs of early XTC or The Pop Group » Continue Reading.

The Forum is a curious venue, called thus because of the statues of roman senators up in the wings.The venue has been a theatre and not so long ago was a Pentecostalist Revival Centre – talking in tongues and everything. Potentially appropriate for Adams who is prone to stoner raves and ranting.

But first Jenny Lewis formerly of Rilo Kiley. I didn’t know her stuff- only that she was good. you know how it is -just sort of passed me by but tonight I was impressed. I’ve since researched the back catalogue and this show was more alt country than the pop of her previous band or even her latest Adams produced album. She’s confident, friendly and a great voice. The band is split along gender lines and the mixer even has the stage divided boys/ girls. Good vocals, good playing, good songs. The highlight was the closer – an acapella version of Acid Tongue. Great show and for a support a real treat. I’ve never liked Ryan Adams. so what am I doing at the gig you ask. Well, a lot of credible people are big fans ,including Afterword alumni, the reviews of » Continue Reading.

The world of Rock and indeed Pop moves fast these days. This time last week I had never heard of C Duncan. Following a few recommendations I picked up his debut ‘ Architect’ on Friday, and wrote a glowing review on these very pages having had a couple of listens. While listening to it on Saturday afternoon I checked the gig listings to see if he might be playing anywhere, saw that he was indeed in town this week and quickly booked tickets on my phone for this very small, intimate show (just in time as it was sold out come showtime) – I hadn’t realised he was also getting heavy rotation on BBC 6Music which always helps shift gig tickets – and by Wednesday here I am about to hear my favourite record of the week performed live in the back room of a pub in Salford. I wasn’t sure how Chris Duncan was going to recreate the lush harmonies and multi-layered arrangements in a live setting. In fact he’s gathered a little 4 piece beat combo of guitar, keyboards and drums and they do a superb job. Two of » Continue Reading.

I don’t usually do these sort of things. I already had their new album ‘Glean’ and (thanks to the shop rather than the band themselves) didn’t really want to buy another in order to gain access to the in-store. Yet TMBG are such a vital building block to who I am and people I am friends with that I had to go on a rare day off work.

‘Tonight will be divided into two clear sections’ deadpanned John F (the guitar one) the performance part and then the signing part’ The live performance part was 30 minutes of new songs from the first six months of the Dial-A-Song project drip-feeding their fanbase plus , well not hits, well THAT one but fan favourites. ‘Number Three’ from their debut was a nod to the fact that their debut album was released on Rough Trade “Records & Tapes” way back when in the U.K. A cheeky rocking cover of Destiny’s Child’s ‘Bills Bills Bills’ “which will form the basis of the show we’re taking to Branson, Missouri” slipped nicely next to another cover, the exuberant ‘New York City’. A personal fave, Dr Worm, » Continue Reading.

All I knew was that I was being taken out for the evening by my son. It wasn’t until we met in town that I found out I was on my way to see Freddie Flintoff’s stand-up / sit-down roadshow at the Palace theatre last night. Do you know what? It was really good. Accompanied by his podcast collaborator Clyde Holcroft whose role was to keep things on track, Freddie handled some lengthy monologues and set pieces in a way that would put many a comedian to shame. I suspect he’s had some coaching from the likes of Jack Whitehall and co, but to carry off a two hour performance to a packed London theatre takes some doing. There were a few obligatory video clips showing the boy on the field in his heyday of ten years ago and of course the partying that followed. (Oh and Merv Hughes was there!)

The audience:

Quite blokey. More cricket enthusiasts than League of Their Own Supporters I would say.

It made me think..

If you don’t like cricket then there would be better ways to spend an evening, but for those of us who do » Continue Reading.

We rolled up for our FbtO debut when the first act was already on stage. Not a great loss, we are veterans of enough Cropredies to know that afternoon folk festival acts pass the time pleasantly rather than being indispensable listening. Moore Moss Rutter seemed to fit this bill perfectly, and if the first act is accomplished trad folkie musicianship it’s a fair bet that the next one will be lovely female harmonies, and sure enough here come Lady Maiserie right on cue.

By now it was time to for the first band of the day to make a real impression on us, and we all three agreed that Keston Cobblers’ Club (not at all sure about that name) reminded us of Noah and the Whale. At this point we were still in our chairs, well up the field, but even from there it was clear that the following act, Nancy Kerr, is near the top of the current crop of singer song-writers but the next act up were the ones I had really come to see.

Things didn’t start promisingly for The Unthanks. From close to the stage we got to see » Continue Reading.

First time at this small festival in the middle of Dartmoor for me. The setting is tremendous, surrounded by the rolling hills and endless skies of the moor. The arena is sited so that wherever you turn the land is there looking over you, so add that to the sunny weather all weekend and you’re off to a winner before a note has been played.

The first act we see on the main stage on Friday night is Martha Tilston. The last time I saw her was in the tent at Bearded Theory about five years ago, where she was a great soundtrack to laying on the grass “savouring” that three days into the festy Sunday afternoon slightly cabbaged feeling. Turns out she’s just as good at the start of the event – lovely singing, great playing and an engaging onstage personality. Next up is Neville Staple, now joined by Roddy Radiation as The Specials reformation continues to fragment. He’s great fun, delivering a set of classics from Jamaica (Pressure Drop) and Coventry (Ghost Town, Gangsters, Rat Race) and all those old songs the Specials covered (A Message To You Rudy, Guns Of » Continue Reading.

I saw Rosanne for the first time last year at the Barbican where she and her husband John Leventhal performed her latest album The River & the Thread in its entirety. It was the only gig on the tour where they were accompanied by a band as they normally tour these days as a duo. It was great and John was a delight to hear on lead electric guitar. But I have to say I enjoyed this duo gig even more, promoted as part of the excellent annual Summertyne Americana Festival held at The Sage. Rosanne sang beautifully throughout but the revelation for me was Leventhal on acoustic guitar. He was fantastic in all respects, whether finger picking or playing plectrum leads to her rhythm guitar. Lots of blues, an occasional burst of jazz, plenty of country picking and some ragtime. Altogether a splendid performance by a duo who are completely at ease with each other. They did a load off River & Thread, 4 from The List, plus perennial faves Ode to Billy Joe and her Dad’s Tennessee Flat Top Box. Opener Anderson East wasn’t bad either. Think Foy Vance with an Alabama » Continue Reading.

This is the same set that this pair have been touring on and off for 20 years, but that’s exactly why everyone’s come in the first place – it’s not a gig where “play some new!” is likely to be heard. So they shamble on stage to warm applause, Dan Penn quietly berates the roadie for not adjusting his mic properly, then turns to Spooner and says “Ready Maestro?”, and we’re off.

What follows is 90 minutes of heaven for fans of Memphis music. Penn’s voice is still in good shape, while Spooner may give a good impression of a man who no longer knows what day it is, but he still plays the keyboard like it’s a extension of his body. Between songs we get anecdotes straight out of a BBC 4 rock doc, about the stuff they’ve written and the people they’ve worked with.

Highlights? ‘The Dark End of the Street’ obviously, and ‘I Met Her in Church’ is still one of the best secular gospel songs ever written. I’d never made the connection before, but the storytelling in many of these songs has parallels with Bill Withers – » Continue Reading.

Back again at this fabulous tiny venue, to hear alumnus of them both, MWK sing the songs of Jackie Leven and of Townes Van Zandt, accompanied by Jackie Leven sidesman, Mike Cosgrave, on keyboards, accordion and 2nd (acoustic) guitar. The 2nd of only 2 dates, this was tribute banding at its best. The first half was dedicated to Jackie, with many an anecdote affectionately outlining his ability to exasperate and baffle, littered with a selection of songs from across his canon. Now, I consider myself a bit of a fan, yet the first couple of songs were new to my ears, albeit unmistakenly Leven, with the audience, sunday polite, a little non-plussed. However, kicking into History of Rain, replete with added doo-woppery, and all relaxed a little. The Wanderer and Ireland for Losers also appeared, reminding the lyrical depth of his recurring themes. MWK sings in a style similar to big Jackie, but less resonance, his anecdotes, to be fair, not a patch on the man himself, as if anyone could be. Cosgrave added elegaic electric piano, glorious swathes of synth chordery and rousing squeezebox. I found a tear swelling » Continue Reading.

The withdrawal of Melle Mel and the Furious Five opened up a late surprise headliner on the Friday in the shape of the former greatest hip-hop band in the world. The vast walk-up queue on arrival suggested that PE’s audience was not quite yer typical Moseley festivalgoers. I missed everyone bar The Pharcyde, who went down well as a hip-hop party band without tempting me to check out their back catalogue. After the usual hyping we got a band that barely fitted on the Moseley stage: DJ Lord – sadly Terminator X is still on the ostrich farm – Chuck and Flava and then a posse that I think was headed up by Professor Griff who is back in the fold, two S1W brothers in paramilitary gear, and a few other hangers on – all underpinned by a live drummer, guitarist and bass. Did they rip the festival up? Pretty well. No revolution, but a rip-roaring canter through a set of greatest hits – Terrordome, Bring The Noise, Dont Believe the Hype, Shut Em Down, 911, and of course Fight The Power. Many unpredicatable twists in the act – including Flav reinventing himself as » Continue Reading.

I never checked out the Church in their heyday so I really can’t compare this latter day Church with the Marty Wilson-Piper era. Not that I didn’t like them, but I was into different stuff at the time. However those jangly guitars always appealed, I loved Kilbey’s collaboration with Grant McLennan “Jack Frost” and Kilbey has always been an interesting interviewee.

A mate is a big fan so last December we went along to a showcasing of the latest album in a low key gig in a small hall. It was a tough gig. It was summer down here, stinking hot, the acoustics were lousy. It was an early gig for MW-P’s replacement Ian Haug from Powderfinger and nothing was played other than the new album – straight through.But I loved Kilbey as a performer -quite charismatic and I loved the way he moved playing his very busy bass.

So when this gig came up I thought it a good opportunity to explore the back catalogue live.

Blurred Crusade, their second album recorded in 1982 was a successful album and still holds up listening to it only now.You’d expect Kilbey to » Continue Reading.

Part of Manchester International Festival, this was the first performance by Bjork of what will presumably be the Vulnicura tour.Bjork was joined on stage by a keyboard and electronics musician and a percussionist plus a 14 piece string orchestra. The show drew heavily on the new album of course but also dipped into the back catalogue with favourites like Hyper-Ballad and The Hunter. It took a while to get going – the new material is reflective and downbeat, and I thought she seemed a little unsure at first. Also the static string section had less musical or visual immediacy than the choir and brass band featured in her last two tours. In truth this was a set less suited to an outdoor venue than her previous ones and I would love to have seen it in a concert hall. Nonetheless as Bjork grew more animated and dramatic and the music got more beat heavy the show as a whole built well. She was in great voice – Army of Me, 5 Years and Wanderlust were especially good. She’s still one of a kind.

It’s hard to place the music of Messrs Ryan and Pattengale. Wikipedia tries ‘indie folk’, while AllMusic has ‘neo-traditional folk’, whatever the fuck that is. Actually, wikipedia’s second attempt, ‘flat-picking harmony duo’, works for me – that’s exactly what they are. There are touches of Simon & Garfunkel, while the combination of voices with strumming and intricate obbligatos bring Welch-Rawlins to mind.

Whatever, they were on excellent form. Considering there’s just the two of them – one a long streak of piss with luxuriant 60s-style hair, the other rather squat with a Martin Freeman haircut – they have extraordinary stage presence. They launched straight in, pitch-perfect right from the word go, their voices and their guitars combining perfectly, their songs full of unexpected little harmonic twists and turns. I was going to make a set list, but I was entranced and forgot. They played pretty much all of The Ash & Clay and their latest, Monterey, anyhow. Swing Low was a standout.

The guitars are tuned to the voices: Ryan’s baritone matches the rich boom of his 1951 Gibson J-45, while the trebly sweetness of the 1955 Martin matches Pattengale’s high » Continue Reading.

This was an eclectic and life affirming evening, taking us from the Appalachian Mountains in the USA, via 17th century East Anglian witch trials and ending out in the land of the rising sun. Owing to my tardiness and a detour via the local Ethiopian Restaurant, we missed the first three artists of this mini-festival entitled “Quiet At The Back”; however, the heat and stickiness of the venue meant I wasn’t too bothered by this.

Marisa Anderson, who hails from Portland in the US, played a set of haunting instrumentals on slide and lap steel guitars. Her playing style draws from the best of American blues, country and bluegrass, together with splashes of West African influences. In her youth Anderson led a nomadic life style wandering across the States supporting a variety of political causes. This was reflected in her choice of songs. The 19th century anti-war song “Johnny I Hardly Knew Ye” (aka “The Animals Went In Two By Two”) segued into “Bella Ciao”. We were also treated to the “House Carpenter’s Daughter”, (sometimes known as the “The Demon Lover”), a salutary ballad from the 1680s for those of » Continue Reading.

I joined the AC/DC faithful at Wembley last night for a healthy dose of genuine heavy rock’n ‘roll and pyrotechnics, the likes of which is as rare as rocking horse sh**t these days. This band do not waste time flaunting their egos or advocating half baked views about our civilisation’s tribulations in order to sound relevant. No sir, Angus and the boys just get on with giving their paying customers a product that’s now a byword for predictability and consistency in an uncertain world. Opening with new anthem “Rock or Bust”, they screeched, riffed and thumped their way through the best tracks from “Back in Black” (“Hells Bells”, “Shoot to Thrill”, “Have a Drink on Me”), classic Bon Scott anthems (“High Voltage”, “Whole Lotta Rosie”, “Sin City” and “Highway to Hell”) and the odd favourite from less acclaimed albums, notably perennial crowd pleaser “Thunderstruck”. Brian Johnson always sounds better live than on record, though probably because when that blackboard chalk voice is pumped through AC/DC’s ear splitting PA system it doesn’t much matter whether he’s in B Flat or C sharp, tenor or mezzo soprano. Unsurprisingly, Angus Young and the band didn’t put a » Continue Reading.

Japan’s Soil & “Pimp” Sessions are self proclaimed purveyors of “death jazz”. While that may conjure up visions of John Zorn skronking nightmares, there’s nothing here to frighten the horses. The musical lineup of drums, double bass, piano, sax and trumpet is not unusual, but S&P have a secret weapon in their frontman Shacho. He’s not a singer (apart from some spoken word on one number) – his description in the line up is “Agitator”, but really he’s an old-fashioned hypeman, like Flava Flav getting onstage on a cooking night at Birdland. He drives the band and the crowd all night and it’s impossible not to be bowled over by him. The music is high octane jazz played with energy, verve and tons of enthusiasm, as well as no little virtuosity. The brass section barely stop moving over the stage all night, and the whole thing is relentless, exhilarating and uplifting.

The audience:

About 200 people in a 400 capacity room, but there was no hanging around the edges – everybody was down the front, and making enough noise for 2000 people. It’s always magic when you’re part of crowd that is getting » Continue Reading.